The Day The Earth Stood Still
by seattlegracegirl
Summary: A Devil Wears Prada story. A fluffy, sweet bit of Mirandy. Andy accompanies Miranda to a photo shoot - can she turn a potentially disastrous day around?


Andy wasn't a huge fan of accompanying Miranda on photo shoots, and it wasn't just because it gave Miranda a grand stage from which to perform her dragon routine, but because no one seemed to_understand_ what she wanted. Was it really so hard to see that she was asking the models to stand this way and that because it made both them and the clothes look so much more elegant? Or that the light should be positioned just so as it made the material look almost liquid, its many colours shimmering before the camera just waiting to be captured?

What Andy found she was a fan of, however, was the fact that Miranda was very much more _involved_. She didn't perch regally on a seat and dictate the speed of rotation of the world around her with a glance, and lip movement or hand gesture, no, she got up, moved around, moved things around, moved people around (and left them looking as if they had just been scalded by her touch). And, of course, being the good little assistant she was, Andy was permitted to totter around behind Miranda, pretending to be diligently listening to every word and direction, while in reality all Andy was truly watching was the mesmerising sway of Miranda's hips, her gaze often sliding lower over Miranda's toned ass and legs down to her elegant, ever heel clad feet.

"Andrea," came the quiet voice, the tone edging on exasperated.

"Yes?" Andy replied, her eyes reluctantly returning to meet Miranda's, her mind scolding her for her obvious inappropriate gazing. She hoped Miranda merely thought her tired and staring at the floor.

"I'm hardly likely to need anything so immediate that you require to hover within three feet and use your natural height to throw shadows everywhere. Now go and save those shoes any more abuse. There's a chair over there, I will call you if I need anything."

As far as dismissals went, that one was relatively kind from Miranda, Andy mused as she smiled and trotted off towards the chair. She knew it was the one designated for Miranda's personal use at a photo shoot; the staff's futile attempt at hinting perhaps she should take a more hands off approach for once. It never worked. Miranda barely used the chair to do more than rest her handbag on (when she didn't make Andy carry it, of course). Still, being designated for Miranda's use, the chair had to be one of the comfiest in creation, and of course, there had to be a near silent electric fan only a few feet away, which coupled with the overhead cover, kept the day's sticky heat away perfectly. For a while, Andy continued to watch the non-progress of the shoot as Miranda became more agitated, her movement and interactions giving away her rising anger. The young brunette really did wonder how it could take such a large group of people such a length of time to carry out Miranda's simple requests. After all, she thought with a smug smile, she could carry out full lists of Miranda's instructions to the levels of perfection required.

As the shoot dragged on, Andy let her eyes fall closed, making full use of the relaxation time she had been granted. Miranda had said she would call her if needed anything, and Andy didn't need her eyes to hear her.

What Andy did need her eyes for, however, was to locate the cause of a rather loud splash, and the reason for the deathly silence which followed. The moment she opened her eyes, the reason became clear. The entirety of the staff brought out for the photo shoot stood motionless, matching horrified expressions on their faces. To Andy, watching on, it was as if the earth had simply stood still. From the reaction alone, Andy knew only one person could have caused that splash. And Andy also knew that only one person was going to have the guts (or possibly stupidity) to be the one to move and help.

With a sigh, she stood from her seat, slipping off her shoes and placing them neatly next to it. Taking a deep breath, she walked from the tent, aware that all eyes were on her as she stepped towards the water's edge. Hiking her skirt up a little, she didn't hesitate as she waded in to just past her knees, where Miranda was still sat on her ass in the water, in what Andy could only think was the most undignified position she had ever seen her in. Setting her face as best she could, Andy finally looked at her employer properly, and felt the edges of a smile forming on her face as she tried not to laugh.

Miranda was drenched. Her clothes were clinging to her shoulders and the tops of her breasts in a way that made Andy blush, and her hair, now damp and unruly, had one lock curled on the older woman's forehead. As their eyes met, Andy recognised the amusement in Miranda's gaze, daring her to find this funny. It was the older woman's cross eyed look at the offending lock of hair followed by her attempt to blow it out of her face which finally cracked Andy's resolve, a laugh erupting from her, loud and joyous. To her surprise, Andy found Miranda laughing along with her. It wasn't forced, but loud, natural and melodious.

Regaining herself a little, Andy extended a hand, which Miranda accepted in being tugged to her feet, water cascading off of her. Standing, and still laughing, Miranda let go of Andy's hand to retrieve her shoes from the water just in front of her.

"Somehow I don't think these are suitable swimming attire," the older woman smiled, tossing the now ruined shoes back on the wooden pier she had previously been standing on.

"I think even I, with my limited knowledge of this _stuff_ could have told you that," replied Andy with a smile, somehow feeling that if there ever was a time to push boundaries, it was now. The two of them, it seemed, were in a bubble from the rest of the world (which had yet to restart, having somehow gotten even more silent since Miranda's reaction to her fall).

Miranda narrowed her eyes, but this time in a good natured way, only a mock glare being sent in Andy's direction. "I'm glad to see you still have such high estimations of yourself, Andrea."

"You haven't fired me yet, so I can't be far off right," grinned Andy, knowing she was pushing further and further each time she opened her mouth.

"You're learning," smiled Miranda back, causing Andy stomach to flip. She turned her gaze to the photo shoot, which was still on pause. "And you appear to be the only one."

Andy followed her gaze, letting out a sigh on Miranda's behalf. "I do try."

"You do," smiled Miranda. "And despite what I may have previously said, you have yet to disappoint me."

"I hope I never do." Grinning like an idiot following the compliment, Andy let herself have a moment of pure happiness before moving her attention back to the people on shore. "Nigel," she called sweetly. He appeared instantly on the edge of the pier, a look of fear on his face for the first time since Andy could remember. "Being a photo shoot and all I think we could rustle up a spare outfit, or have one messengered over ASAP, couldn't we?" Andy's relaxed smile seemed to brush off on him, and he nodded, retreating with a slightly less tense posture than he had arrived. Turning back to Miranda, Andy extended her hand once more. "Unless you want to continue your little paddle?"

Amused, Miranda let herself be led by Andrea back to the chair she had previously occupied. Settling in without complaint she looked expectantly at the brunette, waiting for her to make her next move. So far she had been impressed with the boldness of the younger woman, and was intrigued to see how far Andrea would push, and how far she would allow her to.

"I'm going to go and see what Nigel has come up with, then run past the beauty tent and grab a few things for you. I'll be as quick as I can. Anything else you'd like?"

An amused smile playing on her lips, Miranda simply shook her head.

"Okay," smiled Andy, pausing to take a few seconds more to simply look at Miranda looking so, well, un-Miranda (and smiling about it). Then, remembering where she was, she gave a quick nod and scurried off, hissing at people to get restarted on her way. She knew Miranda's good mood could only last so long, and when it wore off she didn't want the fashion queen seeing everyone still standing around as though waiting for the music to restart in some odd game of musical statues. She burst into the clothes tent in search of Nigel, starting to panic. "Nigel, please tell me you have something."

"I have a whole tent full of things, Six, only problem is, this is meant to be a casual summer shoot. Miranda doesn't do casual."

Andy rolled her eyes. "She doesn't fall ass first into a lake and laugh about it either!" Trying to turn her panic into something productive she marched between the rails of clothing, her hands running over the fabrics. Finally, her hand settled on a deep purple printed summer dress of varying shades with a white silk empire line. She lifted it from the rail, knowing full well it was something she would like to see Miranda in than something Miranda would normally wear. Reappearing in front of Nigel with the dress, she watched his eyebrows shoot up.

"On your head rather than mine," he said, looking at the dress in disbelief. He didn't doubt Miranda would look fabulous in it, the woman could work a potato sack into looking couture, but what he did doubt, was whether Miranda would ever choose to wear it. He turned to the tables of shoes and accessories, piling matching items, along with an oversized summer hat with a matching purple scarf tied around it for detail into Andy's arms. So far the girl's bravery had been rewarded with smiles and laughs today and he was curious to see how far Miranda's patience with her would stretch.

"Wish me luck," she smiled as she hurried from the tent to the one next to it, where she thankfully found Serena, who was easily persuaded to accompany her back to Miranda, though the Brazilian made clear that she would carry the towels, make-up and hair brushes, not use them on the fashion queen. Andy could work with that, she knew Miranda did her own hair and make-up most of the time anyway. Still, it was with hesitant steps that she approached Miranda once more. As she got closer, she was pleased to note that Miranda still looked peaceful, looking out over the shoot (which was thankfully getting itself back on track).

Forcing a smile, she stood in front of her employer, holding out the dress. "I, um, I…Nigel was, busy, so I, um, I picked this out." After stumbling over almost every word in the sentence Andy then paused to consider whether the jumble of words even strung together to make enough sense to even be called a sentence. "But I can go back and find something else if you prefer. I can run back and –".

She was cut short by Miranda raising a hand. The fashion queen then turned her head to Serena, who was neatly arranging what she had brought with her on a nearby table. "Thank you, Serena. Now, could you find me some nail polish to match this," she pointed back at the dress in Andrea's hand.

Mouth open in surprise, Serena quickly gathered herself. "Of course." She walked away still in a state of shock, thinking how much she had to tell Emily when they returned to Runway.

Turning her attention back to Andrea, Miranda smiled as she slid from the seat. She ran her hands over the soft fabric of the dress. "I suppose since it is summer I should embrace a new summer collection." She took the dress from the brunette's only slightly trembling hands and hung it on the pole of the canvas covering. "But what am I to wear beneath it?" She couldn't help but smile at the blush which instantly graced Andrea's pale cheeks. It wasn't news to her that her assistant had a crush on her, and on occasion, when she was in a playful mood, she liked to indulge herself a little. And why shouldn't she? She was a single woman. And despite what the media and majority of her staff and acquaintances said, Miranda was not a woman of all work and no play.

"I could, um, I could go and get…"

"Well I can't possibly keep the things I have on now, they're far too _wet_."

Before Andy could help it, she whimpered. And worse, she knew Miranda had heard it. "I'll be right back." Andy had never been so glad she wasn't wearing shoes. Yes, she had mastered running in heels, but it wasn't half as fast as running without them. She burst back into the clothes tent, almost colliding with Nigel. "She's trying to kill me!"

"I did wonder about your choice," he smirked. "I picked out a few things after you left."

From where she had disappeared amongst the lingerie Andy looked up at him, brows furrowed. "The dress is fine. It's the fact that she wants something to go under it!"

A grin finding its way onto his features, Nigel sidled in alongside Andy. "And that gets to you why?"

Letting out a puff of air, Andy turned and glared at him. They had gone out for drinks enough times that he knew exactly what she thought about Miranda. It just so happened that Andy was 'bare-my-soul' type of drunk.

"You even know her sizes. Someone's clearly taken an interest," he grinned as he watched her quickly flick through the hangers.

At this, Andy's glare intensified.

"Just think, you'll know exactly what colour her underwear is today," he grinned, recalling Andy's latest drunken confession, that she spent the time waiting for the book wondering about what colour Miranda's underwear might have been that day. "And you'll know you've hand your hands all over it."

"I'm going to drown you in that lake, Nigel Kipling!" said Andy, trying to keep the amused smile from her face. "Right after I've taken these back to Miranda."

"Why you continue to tease yourself I will never know, Six."

*

As subtly as she could, Andy returned to Miranda's canopy, where the woman was carefully towel drying her hair, her back to Andy. For a few silent moments, the younger woman decided not to announce her arrival, her eyes taking in the perfect form of Miranda Priestly in clothes that clung in every place, which it turned out, were all the right places. She could even see the outline of Miranda's underwear through her now opaque clothes. When she finally decided she had taken enough of this particular guilty pleasure, she gently cleared her throat. When Miranda turned, she held out the fresh underwear, trying her best not to squirm as Miranda's eyes appraised the chosen items.

It was with a small, intentional brush of fingers that Miranda took the items from Andrea's grasp, noting the small gasp which escaped the younger woman at the mere contact. Clearly, she was far less sure of herself now than she had been only a short time ago in the lake. The change of persona disappointed Miranda a little, but she did have to admit, shy and bashful was a rather adorable look on one Miss Sachs. She tossed the underwear on the chair, turning back to hand Andrea the largest towel. "Hold this." She waited as Andrea, predictably, stumbled her way through some semblance of a sentence asking what she should do with it. "Well I don't intend to change in front of the staff, Andrea, really."

Suddenly it dawned on Andy exactly what was being asked of her. She gulped. She would prefer to be asked to get the Harry Potter manuscript ten times over compared to this. Surely this type of torture wasn't even legal! With shaking hands she opened up the towel and held it open as far as it would stretch in front of her, creating a small area of privacy behind it. Instead of trying to keep her eyes lowered, Andy simply closed them, trying not to whimper as she heard wet clothing being discarded. In her mind, she counted the articles; trousers, shirt, bra, panties… She gulped at the realisation that Miranda must be naked behind her now.

"I find it rather amusing that despite this being a photo shoot I can guarantee that not one photo of this incident will ever make it onto my desk, or into print beyond it."

Andy smiled a little at this. It was indeed an unspoken guarantee. No one would dare show the Ice Queen could be human and smile and laugh, never mind be clumsy and fall to boot. She did wonder, however, if any of the present photographers had managed to capture that smile, and if perhaps she might get her hands on those photos. Sometimes it paid to be pleasant, and she could always tell them she was told to dispose of them by Miranda personally…

"Well, what do you think of your choices?"

Her eyes flying open, Andy cautiously lowered the towel. Miranda Priestly was asking_her_ opinion? Had she somehow slipped into an alternate universe when she entered that lake? Taking in the sight before her, Andy knew exactly what she thought, but wondered how much of that was acceptable to voice. Miranda looked stunning, the picture of relaxed summer elegance. The deep colour of the dress contrasted with her pale skin perfectly, and the beaded necklace drew the eye exactly where Andy was desperately trying not to look; the wonderful v of the neckline.

"For someone who aspires to be a writer, your eloquence with words often astounds me, Andrea," smiled Miranda.

Determined not to simply open and close her mouth in a repetitious action worthy of a goldfish imitation, Andy forced the words in her mind to vocalise themselves. "You look beautiful." It came out softer and rather more breathy than she would have liked, but at least she had said it. There and then, Andy Sachs decided that if saying what she had in mind meant it would be her last day at Runway, it would be worth it. "You always do. Terrifyingly beautiful. Impossibly beautiful. Every day you walk in I catch my breath at the sight of you."

Miranda was astounded at the honesty in Andrea's voice. People told her she was beautiful every day, but they rarely used such adjectives as a prefix, nor said them with such conviction. Glancing at Serena approaching, she held up a hand to Andrea, who looked defeated at being told to hush. Miranda intended to wipe that look from her face the moment they were alone again. She extended a hand to Serena, who quickly deposited the nail polish and vanished from sight like the well trained employee she was. Turning her full attention back to the young woman in front of her, who was now nervously looking at her bare feet, Miranda spoke gently. "I didn't want her to interrupt."

Andrea looked up at her, a helpless look on her face. Emotions were swirling in those chocolate pools, glistening with years.

"You think I don't know, Andrea?" She knew no more explanation was needed.

"I should go," breathed Andy, sounding pained, embarrassed.

"No, you shouldn't," replied Miranda carefully, waiting until she had the attention of those huge brown eyes once more before she continued. "Walking away would disappoint me greatly, Andrea." She paused, for once struggling to pull the right words from her extensive vocabulary. "You may have wondered, Andrea, while I let you stay where you know I would send others for the door?"

"I sometimes wonder why you even hired me in the first place," mumbled Andy, feeling more secure now, despite the oddness of the situation she found herself in.

"I hired you, Andrea Sachs, because I had the feeling you would turn out to be quite something, and I was right. You are a stunning creature, worth more than most of the people on this location combined. Worth more than all of them to me. Today has only made me more sure of that." She let herself smile fully at the look of awe on the brunette's face. She even allowed a small laugh to herself. What did she have to lose? She was an aging single woman with two growing children who were forever prompting her to find someone who could make her smile again. They were understanding, bright children, they would get this. And as far as page six was concerned, it could go to hell. Her heart was on the line, but it had long been the case. She had tried not to care about the girl, but her constant kindness, her obvious care in all things concerning Miranda had finally broken down her walls. "I let you stay because I do not think I could bear to watch you go. You have no idea how hard it was for me not to abandon that event in Paris and chase after you that day." Tears streaked down Andrea's pale cheeks. "Instead, I attended for five minutes and then had Roy drive round every street at a snail's pace until I caught sight of you in the miserable little excuse for a café. I waited outside until you left and I knew you were headed back to the hotel."

"And you met me in the hotel bar," added Andrea, remembering the day. She had been too ashamed and embarrassed to return to her room, in case she should bump into Miranda or Nigel. So instead, she had gone to the bar for a little liquid courage. Miranda had appeared on the stool next to her barely a minute later. "And _asked_ me to come back to work." It had never dawned on her till then, Miranda's words that night had not been cutting or cold or angry, she had simply asked her to return to work.

"I would have begged."

The admission seemed to startle them both.

"You would never have needed to," breathed Andy, her heart hammering in her chest. "I could never just walk away completely. My heart's in too deep for that."

"I suppose that's just as well," smiled Miranda, tears threatening to spill from her baby blues. "Because as much as I like to watch you go I think it would kill me to know it was for good." Seeing Andrea tremble before her, tears still falling, Miranda could find no reason to keep her from sliding from her seat and gently wiping away those tears with the pads of her thumbs, and then gently letting her lips press against Andrea's. It was a small, gentle kiss, but from the shiver that ran through Andrea, she knew it had been well received. She pulled back, finally falling the rest of the way in love with the younger woman as she saw the depth of emotions in those brown orbs. No one had ever looked at her like that, and she knew there and then she would pay whatever price to be looked at like that each and every day by the woman in her arms. "I might as well tell you now, I have no idea how this is going to work," she smiled, pleased when Andrea smiled back. "And Emily will never forgive you…"

She was cut off by a gentle kiss, which she sighed into contentedly. Resting their foreheads together, Andy let out a small giggle. "She can add me to her hit list for all I care. That is, if I'm not already on it."

"I daresay she'll remove you from it when you get to bear the good news of her promotion in the not too distant future."

Andy's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"It will be the case that British Runway will need a new Editor in Chief by the start of next year," explained Miranda, seeing no reason not to as she had already explained everything else that day. "Emily has not remained my assistant for so long for no reason. I had to know she would not fall to pieces. She will inevitably flap and panic and get herself into a state, but I believe that that will pass. And I believe that taking Serena with her to head up the beauty department will help."

Andy smiled in wonder at the woman before her. Wonders would never cease.

"Now, while don't you clean yourself up while I go and clean this up," said Miranda, gesturing vaguely at the shambles of a photo shoot. "And then when I get back you can paint my nails," she smirked, pressing the small bottle of vibrant purple nail polish into Andrea's hand. The younger woman looked at her as if she had gone quite mad, which, on balance, it was possible she had. "Whatever in the world is causing that look on your face Andrea? I should have thought nail painting was simply next on the list after hand-holding, hugging and kissing."

Andy shook her head as Miranda marched off. For the brunette, today would always be the day the earth had stood still, but it would also be the day Miranda Priestly, the woman, started it spinning again. Laughing to herself, Andy continued to gaze after her love, knowing only one thing; as impossible and improbable as it seemed, they would make this work.


End file.
